Wrangler

by Dani Wyatt

  Hell, I’m going to give her things she never knew she needed.

  My fingers dig in my pocket for my keys, fuck if I’m standing here waiting.

  Just as I turn to tell Jessie I’m going to go look, the house phone rings and Jessie’s head snaps around. She has one of those old wall phones with a cord and it rings around fifty decibels damn near shaking the fillings out of my teeth. I lunge at the phone before Jessie can dry her hands.

  “Rachel?” I grip the receiver so tight my knuckles crack and the plastic handle crunches.

  Silence.

  My heart is in my throat. It’s her, I can feel it.

  “Rachel! Where are you?”

  Static crackles for a moment, then her voice comes through. Hard and cold. “Put Jessie on the phone.” Her stoic words send a chill through me.

  “No, where are you? I’m coming. Just tell me where you—”

  Click. The line goes dead.

  “Fuck.”

  Jessie narrows her eyes at me.

  “I’m going to say this once.” She jabs her cane in the air toward me. “That girl’s been through too much in her years already. If you aren’t the man I think you are, if you’ve done something to hurt her, so help me, Lord Jesus, I’ll commit every sin necessary to hurt you in ways the good Lord will never forgive.”

  I raise my hands in a show of surrender. The last thing we need is to be fighting among ourselves. “I don’t know what’s going on. But I’ll swear on any bible you’ve got, I couldn’t hurt her if the devil himself demanded it.”

  “Then what are you standing here for?” Jessie waves her cane at the door as I’m heading that way. “Go bring her home,” she shouts after me.

  Leroy is hot on my heels and when I open the door to the pickup he jumps in, three legs or four, he’s ready to go. Sitting himself in the passenger seat and giving me the stink eye.

  “I’m tellin’ ya,” I grumble as I climb in next to him, “I didn’t do a goddamn thing to our girl. But I’m sure as shit going to find out who did.”

  My first drive by is her friend Tabitha’s apartment. But after knocking so hard on the door that it started to move in the frame, and pressing my face onto every window, I’m satisfied that there’s no one there.

  So my next stop is where it all began. The chill in her voice over the phone at Jessie’s will not leave me. I know there is something wrong and if I didn’t know it before, I know beyond a shadow of any doubt it is my purpose in life to put right anything in her life that goes wrong.

  My phone goes off in my pocket as I pull out of Tabitha’s parking lot and onto Route 2, heading toward Crutches. There’s oncoming traffic, but I punch through the first gap I see, spinning my tires and then darting my eyes from the open road ahead to the text on the screen of my phone.

  Roger: Man, I swear to God I just saw your brother.

  My brother. Leander. What the fuck?

  Hammers immediately begin pounding in my temples and my mind is spinning. I jerk the steering wheel to the right, slamming on the brakes as soon as I’m at the side of the road and skidding to a halt.

  I punch up Roger’s number. This isn’t a texting kind of conversation. It barely rings before his voice comes on and I cut him off.

  “What the fuck? Start talking, you think you saw him?”

  “Well, think ain’t exactly accurate. He’s hard to miss, you know? I was back up in Meyer taking care of some family business. I drove back this way through Plythesville. Driving down Main Street and he was slithering out of The Brass Bucket.”

  The Brass Bucket is a dive hang out and used to be Leander’s second home. The type of clientele they get in there isn’t the kind you bring home to Mama, that’s for sure. The blood drains from my face. Leander’s not supposed to be out for another six months and I guess somewhere deep down, I’d hoped even when he did get out, I would never see nor hear anything about him again.

  “Jesus.”

  “Sorry, man. I didn’t think you knew.” Roger coughs and I can tell there’s more. I give him a second as I try to steady my breath. “Then he got into a gold Impala. Your mom’s old car. The one that was stolen, right? Well I guess it turned up after all.”

  “Fuck. I don’t even fucking know what to think right now.”

  “I followed him until he took a turn down RR 2. I would have followed him farther, but I had to get home. I had a sick horse and the vet was on the way.”

  RR 2 isn’t much but cornfields. Jessie’s place is down there, but so are a dozen other farms and smallholdings and it’s a main route toward the interstate. It’s a hell of a stretch of country road. He could have been headed out of the state for all I know.

  I say a silent prayer hoping that’s the case as I sign off with Roger and hit the gas. Leander’s part of the past, and Rachel’s part of the future. I hope he finds his way far away from here and I never have to deal with his sorry ass again. But right now, I have to find her. That’s all that matters.

  The sun is beating a hasty retreat behind some dark clouds when I slam on the brakes in the dirt parking lot at Crutches. I don’t even bother to find a space. It’s busy and I just don’t have the time.

  I climb out and turn to Leroy. “Sorry, you can’t come in. I’ll bring our girl home, don’t worry.” I slam the door and break into a run toward the front of the bar. I do my best to scan for Clifford in the parking lot, but it’s a waste of time with it so busy. Saturday nights at a place like this, every other fucking vehicle is a pickup.

  Besides, it’s not her pickup I’m after, it’s her, and whether I can see any sign of it or not I know she’s here. It’s that sixth sense again.

  I’m not fucking waiting in line to get into the club. In my state of mind, I could probably take both the hulk bouncers at the door and still have enough in the tank for a marathon, but that would take time, and time is one thing I don’t have.

  Instead I hustle around the side of the building. The back door to the kitchen is standing open and bright light is streaming out into the dusky parking lot.

  I don’t bother to ask – I’m inside and half way through the kitchen before anyone notices, then I’m out the other side before they can lay a hand on me.

  And that makes them the lucky ones. Because if they had tried to stop me they would have regretted it.

  I slam into the swinging door separating the kitchen from the bar, and the pulse of the crowd and the beating music feels like a wave crashing against my eardrums.

  Then I remember, the owner, Crutch. She said he’s as close to a father as she’s ever known.

  I’m pushing through bodies, not asking as I throw them aside, looking for a glittering black tank top so I can ask where I can find the owner. It’s hot as fuck in here and the crowd is so thick, trying to move is like walking through molasses.

  My head is throbbing. There’s a pull in my gut and something as close to heart break as I’ve ever felt has my throat tight and my steps frantic.

  My six feet five inches comes in handy scanning over the crowd. A second later, my eyes light on a waitress who could be the younger version of Morticia Adams if she was a stripper, and I’m in pursuit. Pacing through the crowd, I use my body to block her path. At first her eyes narrow like she’s about to let go on me, but when she scans me up and down, her expression shifts. She pushes her chest out toward me and licks her lips.

  “Is Rachel—” I catch myself. “Lori, where is Lori?”

  The raven haired waitress smirks, fucking me with her eyes. Rachel’s here, I know it.

  “Who?” She bats her finger-length false eyelashes at me and the heat rises in my core. Not a good heat.

  “Fucking Lori. Where is she?” I growl because I can see this bitch is playing and it’s not fucking playtime.

  Her smile drops, and it’s good for her because I’d never hit a woman, but I’m not myself right now.

  “She is in the office.” She tips her head back toward the long bar where she sat that first night at
the back table. “If you’re who I think you are then I’m not sure she wants to see you.”

  Her editorial leaves me with a tightening in my chest, but I’m already running and pushing through bodies until I see a door cut into the black wall in a hallway down from the end of the waitress service area.

  For a moment I hesitate, the future I was sure Rachel and I were going to have together flashing in front of my eyes. All the dreams I’ve managed to cram into the short time we’ve been together feel like they could crumble to dust.

  Thoughts of our wedding day, our first baby, the way she looked at me the moment she lay under me, taking me inside her for the first time. They all thunder inside my head, but I shake them away. No matter, she can run, but nothing will change the fact that she belongs to me and I’ll tie her up and carry her out of here if need be.

  I grasp the brass door knob and swing open the office door, ignoring the sign that says, Do not Enter without a written invitation.

  My invitation got lost in the mail.

  The vacuum of silence inside the office damn near pops my eardrums, and it takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the bright light. Then my gaze falls to the corner and snags on her red-rimmed eyes, the expression on her face hurting me deeper than anything I’ve felt before.

  “Boy.” A booming voice and a giant of a man steps out from behind the door, greeting me with that single word.

  The crutch under one arm, the leg cut off at the knee, the fire in his eyes, I know this must be him: Crutch.

  Rachel looks so small as she sits there on a ratty green sofa, her hands folded into her lap. The sadness in her face is something I never want to see again. Something that I didn’t realize could hurt so much.

  “Rachel.” I fall to my knees in front of her, clutching at her hands. “What happened? What the fuck is going on?”

  New tears crest her lower lids and I realize at that moment that I am capable of murder because I’m ready to kill whoever made her feel this way.

  “Boy, you best get on now.” Crutch swallows and I note the subtle cues in the tightness of his lips, the way he sucks in his cheeks. He’s protective of her, so we are on the same team. I just need him to realize I’m at the head of this little man pack.

  “All respect, sir, I know this is your place, but this is my girl. I don’t want trouble, but I’m not fucking leaving until I know why she’s crying and how I’m going to fix it.”

  I turn back as Rachel tugs her hands from mine and my heart skips a beat.

  “Baby, tell me. You can tell me anything. Someone or something hurt you and I’d rather die than see you like this.”

  “Did you know who I was the whole time? Is this fun for you?” She blasts me with fire in her eyes and my head spins with confusion.

  “Dove, what are you talking about? I’m right here, I have no idea what you are talking about, so for the love of all things holy, please just tell me what the fuck is going on.” I lock my fingers around hers, but she tries to jerk them back and I hold them tighter. I’ve wrangled a lot of fillies in my time, and I can see I’m going to need to hold on tight or she’s going to try to slip loose.

  But she won’t.

  “Leander is what is going on,” she sneers, her voice full of venomous sarcasm.

  The sound of my brother’s name turns my stomach and raises a thousand instant questions in my mind. My head is pounding. Why and how is she even aware of him?

  “What about him?” I keep her eyes with mine, a terror building inside me.

  “Son.” Crutch’s voice booms from behind me. “I think you should go.”

  I’m done playing. “I’m sorry, but I’m not leaving without her.” I grunt louder than I intended but I’m at the end of my rope.

  I round up on him and have to pull myself back to stop from breaking his nose. “She’s mine and I take care of what’s mine.” He doesn’t deserve this, and somewhere deep inside I understand that, but he needs to know who she belongs to. “Rachel.” My voice turns hard because otherwise I’d be sobbing like a kid who just got his first nosebleed. “I fucking love you. For now and forever. But if you don’t fucking tell me what the hell is going on here I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and carry your ass out of here. Because we will sort this out, either here or back home.” My face is hot and the muscles in my back are twitching.

  “Home? That’s—” She spits the words at me and winds up for more noise which is getting us exactly nowhere and I’ve had enough.

  “Alright then.” I get it. She’s pissed about something.

  But this isn’t productive so she’s going to see just what I’m prepared to do to get her back in the right mind set so we can move forward.

  I hate wasting time, I’ve wasted enough in my life and I’m not going to waste another second now that I’ve found what I’ve been waiting for.

  “Wait! What—”

  I swoop one arm around her waist. I’m already kneeling so I tug her forward, settle one shoulder into her soft belly and lift, all before she can get her bearings.

  She’s momentarily silenced by being thrown over my shoulder, and I adjust my arms around her dangling legs, then I turn around to give Crutch a glare in case he has some wild idea that he’s going to stop me from taking what’s rightfully mine out of here.

  “Sir. I didn’t do anything to hurt her. I love her. Whatever is going on here, I intend to fix it. I promise you, you and I are on the same team.” I nod, holding his eyes trying to let him know I want what he wants which is to take care of her.

  He squints at me for a long moment, taking me in, gauging my intentions. Finally, he shakes his head with a smile breaking across his road-worn face.

  “I told you, I take care of what’s mine. I don’t know what she’s bucking about, but I love her and I’ve done nothing to hurt her. So whatever this is, we’ll work it out, because she’s not getting away. I’ll tie her up if I need to, but we’ll figure this out. So, I thank you for taking care of her, but we’re leaving.”

  “We’re not leaving!” Rachel blasts from behind me as her fists start in on my lower back.

  Crutch’s smile turns to a knowing laugh and I see the respect in his eyes. “Good luck. If I ever find out you hurt her, I’m coming for you.” The smile disappears, and I know that I like this man.

  “Put me down! You can’t just control me like one of your horses.” Rachel’s wiggling and I hitch her up a little higher on my shoulder as I make my way toward the open office door and into the bar.

  “No, babe, if you were one of my horses I’d have roped you off already and we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  She’s cussing and kicking me the whole way through the crowd. She’s as mad as a snared possum, but she’s just pounding my ass and arguing the toss, and apparently the patrons of the bar get the difference between a kidnapping and a man taking care of his woman. A bar like this, if she screamed for help, even I’d meet my match, but instead as we reach the front door, a round of hoots and hollers and applause explodes in our wake.

  She softens a bit over my shoulder as we step out into the parking lot.

  “Are you going to behave and start telling me in full sentences what the fuck is going on?” I can’t help myself, but I punctuate the question with a firm slap on her upturned ass.

  She yelps and I think for a split second that I must be a twisted asshole because my cock is as hard as a fence post.

  “Blood is rushing to my head and I can’t breathe.” She sounds pained.

  Finally, some rational words.

  I speed my steps, my boots crunching on the dirt and gravel of the parking lot. The breeze has kicked up, the clouds rushing over the sky giving momentary glimpses of the moon.

  Pausing next to the truck, I turn my head. “I’m going to put you down, and you are going to get in this truck and start talking, understand?” I’m talking over my shoulder, making sure she hears.

  “Just put me down.” The lioness is sounding more like a lamb
.

  “Nope. Promise me you aren’t going to try to run. If you do, I’m getting out the rope and you’re going in the truck anyway, you’ll just be tied up.”

  She huffs from behind me, then presses her hands onto my back to stabilize herself.

  “Fine.” Her voice loses the edge. “I won’t run. Just please, put me down.”

  I crouch down, then pop her up off my shoulder and catch her around the waist on the way down, keeping her close enough to feel every inch of her softness drag down my body.

  I don’t waste time. I’ve got her eyes on mine as I reach out and open the passenger door of the pickup, one arm still around her waist guiding her forward. Leroy is panting and hops through the back window and into the truck bed, wagging his tail.

  But she’s not moving.

  “Get in, Rachel. I swear to God, you are getting in this truck. I get it, you’re stubborn and you’re mad as a hornet about something, but trust me, I’m ten times more patient than you are stubborn. I don’t retreat, Dove, now get in.”

  She glares at me and wrinkles her nose.

  She turns and grabs onto the side of the open door to climb in, then turns to face me.

  “Leander is your brother.” It’s a statement, not a question, so I try to control the dread that the sound of his name sets inside me. “I’m Rachel.”

  Another statement, but I’m still fighting the connection. Praying it’s something else and knowing it’s not.

  “Yes, Leander is my brother. Well, half-brother.”

  Her eyes widen as she blinks at me like I’m an idiot, and I can’t say I always disagree with that assessment.

  “Rachel Sweeting. I changed my name to Gordon, Jessie’s last name a few years ago. My real name is Sweeting.” She stares at me and my head is throbbing along with my cock. The angrier she gets, the more I want to fuck her as if that is the solution to whatever is going on here.

  “Okay, so yeah, I know who you are, I know who my brother is.” Bile bubbles up the back of my throat even as I try for a split second to pretend I’m not putting the pieces together.

  Please God, don’t let this go where I think it’s going. Please.